


Fitting in where you should've belonged

by inconsequentia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Coping, Gen, Stream of Consciousness, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26809252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inconsequentia/pseuds/inconsequentia
Summary: Everyone thinks you can be better but what does that even mean?
Kudos: 4





	Fitting in where you should've belonged

You are the result of a desecration of something that could have been good.

You feel it every time you don't see your friends flinch, or at the very least tense, in the face of things that mean danger.

Used to mean danger.

They said you were safe. You know you're safe. You don't feel safe.

You feel like a ruined toy that springs apart when someone plays with it and that is the worst simile you've ever thought in your life. Jesus fucking Christ.

You're never sure how to feel about these pathetic pity parties you throw in your head before you go to sleep. 

"You're allowed to feel emotions" you hear all the time, parroted back and forth until its lost all meaning. 

"Trauma and grief take time to work through" yeah and until then? If nothing ever changes? If you never get "better"? What then? Are you just meant to be miserable forever? Doubt yourself and your surroundings and your safety like you traitorously thought you were done with the second you realised Bro was dead?

There's no way to know if anything will improve, and how is he supposed to be an optimist when there's no evidence for it?

You are the result of something else breaking and you don't know what you are if you arent broken. You don't know what a whole version of you would be.

Would he laugh more? Make eye contact? Would he be able to fight? Would his friends hate him? Would his friends like him so much they'd hate you?

You are the result of something you could never control and now you're an aching poison slipping into your own cracks.

You imagine sometimes what it would be like to be whole like them. How you would be just as cool,just as suave, but it would be real. Your friends would laugh at the jokes you made effortlessly instead of maybe smiling at every third quip you make as you manage to contribute nothing to the conversation because you have nothing but you desperately need to contribute cause why else are you there?

You'd be confident and real.

Reality is bullshit.

Reality is so far from anything you've ever known. Art supposedly reflects it, but it's apparently a fun house mirror because no one acts like they should.

You like media more because it makes sense. There are queues and rules and patterns so you're never left dreading the next twist. People are motivated by the plot and the plot motivates them.

Reality tears you up and leaves you stuck in the middle of a group of people with their own rules where everything you know gets you called weird or makes people send those disgusting pitying looks your way.

You've made it this far without help and now everybody thinks you're so wrong cause you're so broken. Like you have something else you could or should be.

You're a curse unto yourself and nothing makes sense. You weren't built for this.

You're a long misshapen peg trying to fit into the hole for the shape you're meant to be.

Haha. Pegging.


End file.
